


Best Laid Plans

by Karis_Artemisia_Judith



Series: Harbor [7]
Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: Coitus Interruptus, Domestic Fluff, F/M, No Sex, Parenthood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 02:02:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9797519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karis_Artemisia_Judith/pseuds/Karis_Artemisia_Judith
Summary: A day in the life of the Bjorgman household--Kristoff just wants to make-out with his wife, but their kids have other plans.





	

**Author's Note:**

> At this point Matthias (who was born in 'Changing Colors') is about 5, Grace is about 3 and a half, and Peter is about 14 months.

Pale, misty sunlight was slanting in through the window, and Kristoff idly watched it creep across the wall. A glance at the outdated alarm clock on his bedside table told him that he still had half an hour before the radio clicked on. Not enough time to go back to sleep, but Kristoff relaxed into the pillow anyway, savoring the peaceful early morning. It was perfectly quietly, except for various creatures breathing. Against his legs he could feel the curled up lump that was Sven, the dog’s head draped across Kristoff’s ankle. Olaf’s wheezy little dog snores were coming from somewhere behind him, probably the space behind Anna’s knees. Anna herself wasn’t snoring, for once—she was curled up against his back, her arm wrapped around his chest. He could feel her little nose tucked against the back of his neck, tickling as she breathed.

Anna stirred, stretching a little, then cuddling closer.

“Anna?”

“Mmm.” She sighed, and her parted lips nuzzled at his nape, her nose rubbing gently beneath his ear. He reached up to lace his fingers with her hand on his chest.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he murmured.

“Mmhm. G’d mornin'—” Her kisses reached his ear. Kristoff heard an offended wuffle from one of the dogs as Anna shifted to hook her leg over his hip. He reached down to rub his palm over her silky thigh and she pressed closer.

“You’re awake early.”

“Mmmm. I missed you.”

He turned his head so that he could kiss her over his shoulder. Her lips were still clumsy with sleep, bumping against the corner of his mouth like a bewildered bumble bee. Kristoff twisted his shoulders so that he could curl his fingers through her messy hair and hold her in place for a proper kiss. They’d barely said good night before collapsing into bed—Anna had been asleep almost before her face plowed into the pillow—but now it was peaceful and quiet and they had a little time—

Kristoff rolled over quickly, smothering Anna’s gasp with his lips as he pulled her under him. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, and he knew she was having the same thought, that she felt the same urgency to take advantage of this perfect moment. She was hungrily arching up against him and she was so beautiful and he _wanted_ her—

A crash and a wail from the other room jolted them apart.

“Mom _meeeeee_ , Gracie got out of _beeeeeeeed_!”

“No! Nooooooooo _OOOOOOOOOOO_.”

“DADDY BABY PETER IS AWAKE, GRACIE DID IT!”

Anna and Kristoff stared into each other’s eyes, the same horror written on their faces. Then they rolled apart, clambering blearily out of their opposite sides of the bed and getting half dressed as they hurried out to make sure none of their children were actually dying.

* * *

 

Matthias wanted pancakes, but not _those_ pancakes, pancakes like Aunt _Elsa_ made with _sprinkles_ in them. Grace wanted eat her pancakes and Matty’s pancakes and her mother’s pancakes—or at least she wanted to take a bite out of everyone’s pancakes and then drop the rest on the floor where the dogs were waited to snorfle up every crumb. Peter just wanted to rub syrup in his hair.

It was incredible. Kristoff thought that his youngest child must be some kind of mutant, because he certainly hadn’t given Peter syrup. There had been no syrup on the high chair, or near the high chair, there had just been plain pieces of cut-up pancake and slices of banana, and _yet_ the baby’s face was sticky and smelled like maple. Amazing.

Kristoff managed to eat half a plate of pancakes, standing up at the kitchen island and flipping more pancakes for Gracie with his other hand, while Anna coaxed Matty into eating _his_ pancakes by putting a little bit of food coloring in the maple syrup (and Kristoff could only pray that Matty wouldn’t suddenly decide to refuse all blue food again the way he had last month, now that they had half a jar of blue maple syrup). She wiped syrup and bananas off of Peter’s face, and supervised Matty’s morning chore of feeding the dogs while Kristoff cleaned off the skillet and filled the sink with dishes. They were all plastic plates and cups, because it was Gracie’s morning chore to bring them from the table to the counter and she had decided that the _best_ thing to do was to stack everything up into the biggest pile possible and carry it all at once.

Peter’s morning chore was to make an enormous stinky diaper.

Then there were thirty minutes of rapt silence while a talking tiger learned a lesson about responsibility on the TV. Kristoff did his best with Grace’s hair—she had the same thick hair as her mother, dark red and beautiful and snarled every morning no matter what they tried to do. He managed to brush it almost-smooth and gather it into two stubby tails before the show ended and his daughter squirmed away from him to flip over a toy bin and stand on it.

Anna emerged from the bedroom in her work clothes, still shoving pins into her own hair, twisted up in a bun. She slipped into the kitchen and walked into Kristoff’s arms.

“I wish I didn’t have to work today,” she mumbled into his chest. “You just got home, and we didn’t even have a day together.”

He hugged her to him and kissed the top of her head. “You are the boss,” he pointed out. “No one can fire you. But if you don’t go—”

“There’ll be no one to take care of all the puppies.” She sighed. “I need to hurry up and get some more staff, so that I don’t have to go in every time someone else gets the flu. But Berenice is going to come in this afternoon, so I’ll be back early.”

“I’ll miss you.” He kissed her hair again. “Here—I filled your travel mug and made you lunch. Turkey and Havarti with mustard. The pickles are in a ziplock on the side so the sandwich doesn’t get soggy.”

Anna stood up on her tiptoes, lacing her fingers behind his neck to pull his head down for a lingering kiss. “You are the best of husbands,” she murmured. Her hands slid down his chest. “I’m going to have to make up for our interruption this morning when I get home tonight.”

“Oh really?”

“Mmhm—” She kissed him again and his palms moved over her back, then cupped the swell of her hips while she hummed into his mouth.

“Anna, I—”

“Mommy!! Mooooommmeeeeeeee! I need to potty!”

They both sighed. “Mommy has to go to work, Grace,” Kristoff called. “Come say bye-bye and then daddy can help you.”

It was another ten minutes before Anna untangled herself from her children and escaped to the car. Kristoff ran out to hand her lunch to her through the window before she drove off.

* * *

 

By the time Anna got home, Grace had drawn ‘tattoos’ up and down her own arms in permanent marker, Peter was sticky—again—and Matthias was already in his pajamas because he’d gotten orange juice on his clothes from that morning and now every single piece of clothing he had was officially dirty, except for the dressy slacks and holiday sweater from their last Christmas card.

Kristoff was being used as a jungle gym, with a child hanging off of each arm, but Matty and Grace jumped down to compete for Anna’s attention. She waded through them to get to her husband for a welcome home kiss.

“I’ll keep them busy,” she whispered. “You make a run for it.” Kristoff cupped her face for another kiss before gratefully escaping to the kitchen.

The kitchen was Kristoff’s space, when he wasn’t away on the boat. The system  they’d worked out meant that when he was home full time, Anna would work—she’d started her own pet daycare for that reason, because it meant she could choose her hours, most of the time. It was a good system, but as much as he adored his kids Kristoff was grateful to have thirty minutes of relative peace to work on dinner. Well, clean up from lunch, then work on dinner.

Anna ducked into the kitchen and pulled a paper towel from the roll, getting it damp at the sink.

“Peter?” he asked.

“Peter.” She sighed and made a face. “I don’t know how he does it.” Anna was still in her work clothes, her coil of hair unwinding to fall in hair-pin studded waves over her shoulder. Kristoff wished his hands weren’t covered in egg wash and flour from the filets he was breading.

“Anna—” She paused on her way to the door and, holding his arms awkwardly away from both their bodies, he leaned over to kiss her. It was more of a nose-bump than a kiss, and Anna smelled like dog and he smelled like fish, and in the living room it was far too quiet and someone was probably breaking a rule. But Kristoff was humming as he went back to dealing with his halibut and Anna went to put both their oldest children in time-out.

* * *

 

There was dinner, during which Matthias picked the breading off his fish and ate nothing else, and Gracie spilled milk on her brother’s pajamas, and Peter somehow got sticky. Then there was brushing teeth and finding a t-shirt of Kristoff’s that Matthias could sleep in, washing the stickiness off of Peter and tucking the baby in, then watching a movie chosen by Gracie, because she’d filled up her sticker chart with smiling poop emojis to represent a whole week of going potty without an accident.  

And then all the children were in bed, and Kristoff was brushing his teeth while Anna showered. He was dutifully counting to one hundred and twenty and had only reached 76 and his wife pulled the curtain aside and stepped out, pink from the hot water and wrapped in a towel. His eyes followed her appreciatively in the mirror, which is why he saw her wink as a hand grasped his buttock and gave a firm squeeze. Then she was breezing away into the bedroom, although not before her towel dropped to the floor.

Kristoff started brushing faster.

* * *

 

It was amazing how, in the time it took for Kristoff to count to forty-four, rinse his mouth out, and hang up Anna’s towel, all his plans for the night could be changed.

“I guess we shouldn’t have let her pick out The Wizard of Oz.” It was an hour later, and Gracie had finally gone back to sleep. Matthias, who had been woken up by his sister’s nightmare, had been firmly tucked in and told to lie still and think peaceful thoughts. Peter had slept like a rock all through Gracie’s wailing, only to wake up with an unusual wet diaper as soon as the older two were back in bed.

“Mmm.” Anna was already curled up, the duvet wadded up at the foot of the bed. Kristoff stretched out next to his wife with a sigh. She groped vaguely for him, grabbing his wrist and pulling his arm around her body like she would a blanket. He sighed again as his body curled instinctively around hers, his brain already going mushy with oncoming sleep. His thumb moved in a regretful caress against the underside of her breast.

“I don’t know how we managed to have three kids,” Kristoff mumbled.

“Mm.” Anna yawned. “Then you’re really going to be surprised when I tell you about number four.”

There was a pause.

Kristoff stared wide-eyed into the darkness. “Anna? What did you say?”

Her only answer was a snore.


End file.
